The Games
by Kaleidoscope Of Tales
Summary: <html><head></head>Hallelujah. Free another year. I hardly even hear the name. Someone cries out. Mum? Why is she so upset? God, I hope it's not a friend. It has to be one of mine, because mum's friends are all, like, fifty- & the games are for kids. Hm. First time we get to do something adults can't, and it's genocide. "Clancy Delye?" I hear again. Oh. Damn. They don't actually mean me, do they?</html>


"**_Clancy Delye_**!"

I smile. Hallelujah. Free another year. I hardly even hear the name.

Someone cries out. Mum? Why is she so upset? God, I hope it's not one of my friends. It has to be one of mine, because mum's friends are all, like, fifty. And the games are for kids.

Hm. First time we get to do something adults can't, and it's genocide.

"Clancy Delye?" I hear again.

Oh. Oh.

Damn. They don't actually mean me, do they?

"Clancy," says a girl I can't name beside me. She sniffs. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I nod distractedly at her.

"It's OK," I say stupidly. "They don't actually mean me."

"I think they do," mutters some girl behind me. Older. And, by the sound of her snotty voice, more "mature". _Erlack_.

"Nah," I wave my hand offhandedly. Wait? Can you off-**hand**-edly wave your hand? I am filled with philosophical thoughts today. In the meantime, I wonder why the earth is round. And why everyone is staring at me.

"Clancy," Ella, my Bestie, who seems a little emotional today, sobs. "They do mean you!"

I shake my head, and smile at that camera that just happens to be pointed at me. "No," I hiss, "they _don't._" Wave to the camera, Clancy. Smile, Clancy. _Is there something in my teeth? Did I forget to wear shoes again? Why are they staring at me?_

"Why doesn't she just go up," someone whispers loudly.

"Mm," I nod. "Idiot."

"Clan-cee, De-Lie?" The lady with the frizzy silver hair calls, confused. What's her name again? Think hair. Oh yeah. Shiny. Her mouth seems to be pulled into a permanent pout, so she pronounces my name 'Clonsay Delee'.

Wait, my name?

I don't share my name with anyone else, do I?

Best be sure.

"Middle name?" I yell across. The lady looks so surprised that she drops the card with my name on it. I mean, _a person's_ name on it.

"Terra?"

"Oh, double damn," I sigh. "That's me, isn't it?"

"Umhm," says snobbish girl, snobbishly.

"Afraid so," says sad girl beside me.

Oh well. I suppose I'm going to die soon.

* * *

><p>They lead me into the Justice Building (don't ask me why it's called that, irony, I suppose. Maybe Snow <em>does<em> have a sense of humour. Remember, children, don't judge a book by its cover. Even if the title says 'Vicious Murderous Insane Creepy Psychopathic Malicious Vampire-like Killer'. Even then.)

"Good luck," says one of the guards gruffly. Wow. I've never felt so loved before.

"Mm," I say. "Good luck to you too. I hope someday you'll get a job that doesn't involve mass-murder," I tell him sincerely.

Tears wet his eyes. "Thanks, little girl," he sniffles, ruffling my hair. I bite down a frown at 'little', and pat down my mane of hair once he vanishes out the door.

"Clancy!" Scream my parents, and my little sister. She's at the age where ripping the heads of pony dolls makes her giggle hysterically. Sometimes she tries to eat my homework. And I can tell you for fact, telling a teacher that 'my little sister ate my homework', will not go down well (Inserts another life lesson; lying is sometimes better than telling the truth. Actually, it's always better then telling the truth. For example, my aunt was going to a costume party with her capitol friends, and she asked me how she looked. I thought 'horrible. Disgusting. Like a female Snow.' But I _said_ '**lovely** Aunt Rosetta'. She went to that costume party and won 'The Most Interesting Costume Award' I suppose they thought that the red smeared across her face must have been a play on blood, or something interesting like that, but it was a make-over gone wrong).

My little sister, Folle, gives me her puppy-eyed look. "I'm sorry I ate your history homework. And your DVD."

I smile softly (well, as softly as I can without showing my urge to reach out and strangle her. She cost me a straight A. Well, at least I think she did. What District Four the District of, again?) and say, "it's OK."

That's all there is we need to say. Saying 'I love you's would be a lie, it's more like 'I deal with you'. That is our can sometimes live with/ but could live without sisterly relationship, I suppose.

"You were an alright daughter," my dad confesses, patting my shoulder.

"Thanks, dad."

"Don't die without glory!" My mum growls.

"Love you too."

* * *

><p>Shiny beams at us. "Oh! We're just <em>so<em> glad to have you!" She gushes. "Our Luxury Train is top of the market- we've been looking forward to meeting your!"

"Er…" Don't show how creeped out you are, Clancy. Smile back at her… don't shudder… no! Too late. Do her teeth look like a shark's, or is it just me? "Did you know I was going to be picked?"

Shiny laughs nervously. "No, no…"

An awkward silence descends upon us.

"Hello?"

"Damned Snow!" I yell, jumping back. "Hell, I didn't even notice you were there."

"Hello," repeats the young child. He looks about thirteen. He's mimicking Shiny's shark smile, bearing his teeth like Folle. "I like blood."

Humour him, Clancy. "Uh, that's nice. My sister does, too."

He nods slowly. "Intereeeessssttting…."

"Heh. Heh heh." Don't show the child how scared you are Clancy. Don't.

"Isn't he just adorable?" Asks Shiny, ruffling his hair. "Ow!"

Maybe this boy does have some good traits, after all. He did just bite Shiny.

* * *

><p>"This is Mara, and this is Train," she leans over and whispers loudly in our ears. "<em>They don't talk much.<em>"

"Are you on drugs?" Asks the boy. It turns out his name is Kudi. Koo-dy. He says it's OK to call him Bloody, if I want.

Mara cocks her head, as if he has gained her interest.

Shiny coughs, then hisses, "morphling addicts. Also mentally unstable. Don't worry, the beloved and hailed President plans on killing them off next month. It will be tragic- I can see it now. 'Remaining Victors of Transport District Ironically Crushed by their Own Steamroller…'"

Kudi giggles. "Can I help?"

* * *

><p>I lie awake in bed. Is that a camera on the wall?<p>

* * *

><p>Zzzzzzzzzz.<p>

* * *

><p>I swear I just saw a shadow flit across my room. I will go investigate immediately.<p>

* * *

><p>Oh, never mind, it's OK. It was only Kudi.<p>

* * *

><p>Wait- there aren't any locks on any of the compartments or rooms, except for the capitol bases. Should I be worried? Kudi <em>says <em>he was only sleepwalking, but what if he was doing something more_… sinister_. On the other hand, I had better warn him of the dangers of sleep walking in an arena.

* * *

><p>Goodnight.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>OK, this is a whole different writing style to what I'd usually do, but this is something of a Parody. I have no idea whether I'll continue with it or not. At least it was fun writing it <strong>**J**


End file.
